


I Hear The Train All Night

by stormbornslytherin (biguglybird)



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:38:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2843294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biguglybird/pseuds/stormbornslytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why would grown men throw rocks at trains?"</p><p>(Christmas, 1998.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hear The Train All Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knubbler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knubbler/gifts).



> Obviously I don't endorse the gang's general homophobia, sexism, and poor choices (nor do I endorse implied incest...) but I try to represent the characters accurately. Enjoy!

From 1997 to 2000, give or take, Charlie and Mac were roommates.

They were always all unofficially living together in some capacity, whether it was Mac's tendency to hang around Dennis' college dorms like he belonged there while Dennis tutted and acted like he was better than Mac and somehow never got around to kicking him out, exactly, or the fact that even after she dropped out Dee would always end up on the pullout (and elsewhere, socks on the door kind of _elsewhere_ if everyone was being honest with themselves, because nobody in the gang could persuade another girl to fuck them to save their lives, even and especially Dennis) and Charlie was always coming in hot with some new scheme to make them all rich. He claimed he would go to law school at some point, never mind that he barely read at an eighth grade level, but young Charlie was boundlessly optimistic and nobody was cruel enough, yet, to snatch it out of him.

But Dennis' senior year, 1998, was a little different. Dennis was the only one still bothering with a degree at that point. Dee was in and out of L.A. that year depending on how much money she was able to pawn off Frank--she had met some guy, somehow, who promised to make her a star and she was fucking him like he meant it. Charlie and Mac lived together in a crappy studio in South Philly, and on Christmas Eve they were talking about buying a bar.

Or, more accurately, Charlie was talking and Mac was listening.

"Yeah, dude, and it's like, you know, we just drink all day and I'll get a business degree, man, like you and me and Dennis can all own it together, and we don't serve gay shit, only beer, and we could nail, like, so many hot chicks man, you know? We'd be together every day."

Charlie took a long pull of the bong he had affixed a Santa hat to. The effect was peculiar.

"Charlie, you can't even read, which makes me think you're probably not so good at math, or business, or any of the shit you need to successfully own anything more significant than these wine coolers. Which, by the way, are gay as shit." Mac was wearing his Santa hat, which he claimed to have karate-chopped off a homeless guy earlier in the day.

"Wine coolers are coming back, man! The 80s are coming back!"

"Whatever, dude. I'm too grunge for the 80s. I'm like, so, punk rock, you know what I mean? Should I buy a leather jacket?"

Charlie rolled his eyes but said, "Yeah, okay, man. Buy a leather jacket, whatever makes you happy. What makes you think we can't own a bar? How hard is it to buy a bar?"

Mac actually didn't know how hard it was to buy a bar, he didn't know the first thing about it, but he was pretty sure it was harder than Charlie was making it sound. "Pretty fucking _hard_ , bro." He blushed almost immediately as he said it while trying to pretend he didn't, as Charlie pretended he didn't see any of it, and they both pretended this was something that didn't happen almost every day.

"Okay, but like, Dennis is more smarter than us, you know, and he could do the smart shit, and you could be the bouncer and I could do.....something else, helpful." But he was stumped as to what, exactly he could do. It made him feel...strange. He didn't know what the feeling was, but he didn't like it.

Mac said, "Why do you want us to own a dumb bar anyway?"

"I told you, bro! So we could all be together!" There was silence, while Mac pretended he didn't get an erection at the word _together_ and made a show of having a loud coughing fit. Then:

"Even Sweet Dee?"

"No, fuck that bitch. Well, I don't know, maybe we could use her to be the hot chick that picks up other hot chicks and takes them to the bar?"

"Gross, bro. She's gross!" (Nevermind how many times each of them had had sex with her that year alone, nevermind that college aged Dee was probably Dee at her sexiest, nevermind that they both knew Dee may be a gross person but she still wasn't gross _looking_ \--this was the game they played, this was the game they'd always play.)

"Yeah, true. Okay, Dee's out then."

"She'll probably try and weasel her way in. Or Dennis will make us include her." There was something in Mac's voice at the word "make", something halfway between disgust and jealousy. 

"Okay, whatever. Dee's in, she's out, whatever. We could like, get in touch with our roots and shit, make it an Irish bar!"

"A pub," Mac said automatically, realizing too late that this might sound like an endorsement of the world's shittiest idea. 

"Yeah dude! A pub! An Irish pub! Old school, where people get in fights and shit, and we smoke cigarettes all the time, and the bullshit drinking age doesn't even matter. Old school."

Mac was stoned and drunk and, unfortunately, still had the boner, and it was Christmas, and he couldn't get Charlie to shake this idea. Not on Christmas. Next week he'd talk him out of it. For now he just said, "Sounds good, bro."

Charlie was a little pink in the cheeks with excitement, which wasn't helping the boner situation, so Mac said, "Let's go!"

"Go where?" Charlie asked, while standing obediently.

"Bro, it's Christmas!"

"You want to go to your parents' house now?" Charlie tried to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"No, dude! Listen!"

Charlie listened. Heard nothing. Listened harder, realized what Mac was talking about: Somewhere a train was pulling into a station.

"Oh, yeah! Of course! Man, I'm gonna make the best wish this year!"

"What the shit are you talking about now, Charlie?"

"My wish! Dude, do you not wish for things while you're throwing rocks at trains? I thought that was the whole point!"

Making wishes on trains. Charlie Kelly was a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a series of poor social and hygienic choices, Mac thought to himself, grabbing his coat.

*

In a different time zone, a young woman, also very drunk, rolled over in bed and prayed that by this time next year she'd be someone else, better, different, but that was a lie. What she really wanted was to go home.

*

In Philadelphia, her twin brother sat alone in his dorm room because he had not been invited home for Christmas that year and his mother was in Tahiti with some boyfriend anyway, and he vowed next year he'd shake all the losers from his life and start really living. 

He had an impulse to call Mac but thought better of it.

*

December 25, 1998, somewhere in in South Philly, the sun rose on two sleeping young men barely out of childhood, snuggled against each other in a field where trains rushed by.

 

 


End file.
